


take my hand (take my whole life too)

by theyellowumbrella



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, this is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-15 12:27:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13613370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyellowumbrella/pseuds/theyellowumbrella
Summary: Their fingers are interlaced over the middle of them, placed on top of the blanket. Vanessa’s hand’s very still, as if she’s afraid that if she moves it then Charity will realise and pull away. It makes Charity’s stomach tighten, how afraid Vanessa is to show affection.or5 times Vanessa holds Charity's hand, and the 1 time Charity holds Vanessa's





	take my hand (take my whole life too)

**Author's Note:**

> this is for sarah! (@carolairds on tumblr) you’re the best n i love u
> 
> anyway. i’m posting this on my phone because i’m without my laptop n this is honestly hell on earth, pls appreciate my efforts to get this fic to u lads x

**1.**

Charity reckons she enjoys these moments the most.

They’re on the couch, tucked under a blanket, watching some film on telly. Charity’s got her legs propped up on Vanessa’s lap, stretched across the sofa, and Vanessa’s absentmindedly running her hands up and down her shins gently. The kids are all upstairs, Moses and Johnny tucked into bed and Noah doing his homework, and Chas is tending the bar.

It’s just — simple. Easy. Natural, even. Charity knows it probably won’t last long, but if anything, that just makes her more determined to cherish it while it does.

She’s nearly dozing, content enough to fall asleep right there, when she feels it. Her eyes are fluttering shut and she’s beginning to give in to the pressure, trusting Vanessa enough to fall asleep with her, when Vanessa reaches out and takes her hand.

Her eyes snap open, all of a sudden much more awake than before. Vanessa’s eyes are focused on the telly, but Charity can see the tension in her. It scares her, for a brief minute, when she realises that she can identify Vanessa’s emotions when she’s hiding them so well, but her thoughts are quickly redirected to the hand holding hers.

Their fingers are interlaced over the middle of them, placed on top of the blanket. Vanessa’s hand’s very still, as if she’s afraid that if she moves it then Charity will realise and pull away. It makes Charity’s stomach tighten, how afraid Vanessa is to show affection.

How she made her that way.

So, she takes the first leap. She shuffles down the sofa ever so slightly and squeezes Vanessa’s fingers. When she looks away from the telly and makes eye contact with Charity, she’s wearing an infuriatingly adorable little smile. The tips of her ears are bright red and her cheeks wear a soft pink glow, as if she’s embarrassed by even the notion of Charity acknowledging the contact.

Charity smiles back in what she hopes is a comforting way, letting it linger on her lips for a few seconds longer than she usually would. It seems to do the trick because Vanessa positively beams back at her, radiating sunshine and happiness and warmth again just like normal.

**2.**

“Don’t go too far!”

Moses and Johnny run off without acknowledging the statement. Charity thinks she should probably follow up on it, but Vanessa seems content enough to let them play. Noah’s standing by the swings anyway, close enough to keep an eye on them, so she feels safe enough to take a step back.

Vanessa’s sitting on the bench behind them, watching the boys play happily. She has a content look on her face, like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be in that minute. It’s a feeling Charity’s never had before, not properly, but when she’s watching her boys mucking around on the climbing frame and seeing the soft look on Vanessa’s face, she thinks she might understand.

She takes a seat beside her without saying anything, and the two of them sit in a comfortable silence. It’s a different feeling entirely, being so comfortable in a relationship that she doesn’t feel the need to be constantly filling the void with conversation. She’s never had that before, not once, and it’s still difficult for her to get her head around it sometimes.

Vanessa takes Charity’s hand in hers. She rubs shapes gently onto it, little circles and squares and random squiggles. It’s nice, relaxing. There’s something about Vanessa that’s just calming, Charity’s found — something that can always ground her. She can always bring her back down to Earth, no matter what.

It doesn’t scare Charity as much as it used to. Maybe that scares her more.

**3.**

The day’s been trudging on slowly ever since she got up. Minutes pass like hours and hours pass like excruciatingly long years, except for when the time comes for her break, which feels like it passes in only a few minutes.

Chas, as per, has no sympathy for her and simply rolls her eyes when Charity voices her grievances. That, if anything, makes Charity complain even more, just to annoy her. She’s already irritated at the fact that Vanessa got called out at five in the morning and that she refused to ignore it and just stay in bed with her, and that added onto the fact that she has to spend her day pulling pints for people she can’t stand — well, the day felt doomed from the beginning.

“Would you stop being so miserable?” Chas says, nudging Charity. “You’re putting the punters off their food.”

“Are you sure that’s got nothing to do with that suspicious looking pie they’re all eating?”

Chas rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Don’t let Marlon hear you slating his pie,” she says. “He’ll have your guts for garters.”

She scoffs. “Oh, I’m scared.”

Chas nips at her side. “Stop being so moody and just admit why you’re actually being so insufferable today.”

Charity narrows her eyes at her cousin. She crosses her arms over her chest and holds her head high, refusing to make eye contact. “I’ve got no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, really?” Chas laughs. “So, it would have nothing to do with a certain blonde vet that I heard sneaking out at five o’clock this morning?”

She rolls her eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Not _everything_ is about Vanessa, believe it or not, Chas.”

Just as she says that, the door opens and, lo and behold, in walks Vanessa. She looks aggravatingly adorable, with her hair all messy and in her face and her bobble hat resting on top of her head. Charity can’t help but smile at the sight; it’s an automatic reaction — a reflex, more than anything. She can hear Chas snort under her breath, but she’s far too distracted by Vanessa’s excited little look when they make eye contact.

“When’s your lunch?” she asks when she approaches the bar, resting her elbows on top of it.

“Erm, whenever, really,” Charity responds, leaning across the bar just slightly so she’s closer to Vanessa.

“Not qui —” Chas tries to butt in, but Charity elbows her in the ribs, eliciting a sharp hiss from her cousin. It does the job of shutting her up, though, so Charity counts it as a win.

“Right, well,” Vanessa says, looking between the two of them with an air of amused suspicion. “Let’s go then.”

“What? Go where?” Charity asks, brow furrowing in confusion.

“The caff,” Vanessa says like it’s obvious. “We’re having lunch. Hurry up.”

“When was this decided?” she asks, although she’s moving from behind the bar and collecting her jacket from the coat hook all the same. “And by who?”

“By me, this morning, when you were being a right stroppy cow because I had to do my job.” She reaches her hand out, signalling for Charity to take it. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Charity looks to Chas, who’s just staring at the pair in amusement, before begrudgingly taking Vanessa’s hand and moving with her. It feels uncomfortably domestic, walking together to the cafe hand-in-hand, and she can feel eyes on them, but Charity finds she quite likes it. It feels nice. Safe.

**4.**

Not that she’d ever admit it, but nights spent with Vanessa always make Charity feel safer. She’s not sure what it is, but there’s just something about the way that Vanessa wraps herself around Charity and holds on so tightly that makes her feel like nothing bad could ever happen to her.

Which, she knows, is a stupid way to think, because it feels like everything bad that could have happened to her already has. But it’s nice to be naive for once; nice to feel protected. It makes her feel young again, like she’s getting back the childhood she had snatched from her so soon.

She’d never admit to being a little spoon, either. She’s just glad Vanessa doesn’t tease her about it too much, otherwise she’d probably end up ending the relationship. She has a reputation to uphold, after all.

She gladly sinks into Vanessa’s arms, grateful for the familiarity that the embrace brings. She can’t sleep without her, now. It makes her feel sick, to be that codependent on someone else, but it’s true; it’s like her body needs Vanessa — the smell of her perfume; her arms around her waist; the feeling of her hair brushing against Charity’s neck — to be able to wind down at night.

Vanessa presses a kiss to Charity’s shoulder and nuzzles her face into the crook of her neck for a moment before she allows her body to relax. “Night, Charity,” she says into her shoulder, voice heavy with sleep. It fills Charity with warmth, makes her feel happy in the best possible way.

“Night, babe.”

Vanessa links their hands together, almost subconsciously. It’s the kind of subtle action that makes Charity’s heart soar the most, that makes her feel the safest. Vanessa’s not doing it for anyone, not trying to prove anything, she just wants to keep Charity close.

It’s almost too good to be true. _Vanessa’s_ almost too good to be true.

She snuggles in closer.

**5.**

“Look at that.”

The sound of Chas’ voice snaps Rhona out of her daze. She blinks a few times to focus her eyes before looking at Chas in confusion. She follows her line of sight to across the pub, where Charity and Vanessa are sat together in a booth. It all clicks then.

They’re sharing a bowl of chips, both picking at the food in the middle of the table. Vanessa’s laughing outrageously at something Charity’s said, and Charity’s got that smug little smile that Rhona knows is the one she always has when she’s pleased with herself. She’s seen that look far too many times by now, has always been equally as disgusted every time, but she never thought she’d be seeing it after Charity was able to make Vanessa smile.

Watching them interact is almost like watching a nature documentary — Vanessa’s like a baby antelope, naïve and harmless, and Charity’s like the lion that’s about to snap her up. She’s already wolfed down her father, still has the blood dripping from her teeth like a sign of pride, and yet Vanessa edges closer anyway, takes comfort where she knows she shouldn’t. And yet —

And yet the lion takes her in, holds her to her chest, treats her like one of her own. Takes pity, perhaps, but takes her in all the same. It’s unnerving, watching Charity act so out of character. It feels like David Attenborough should be narrating their lives, at this point.

Vanessa reaches out across the table and takes Charity’s hand in hers. Rhona and Chas both watch in amazement as Charity doesn’t flinch away, but instead just breaks out into a smile that even Rhona herself would have a hard time resisting. Vanessa swipes her thumb over Charity’s skin softly, and Charity responds by positively melting under her gaze.

It’s difficult to watch, but it’s difficult to tear her eyes from at the same time. Rhona decides to leave it, because getting involved in Charity Dingle’s relationships can never end well.

**+1**

To be honest, Charity’s not quite sure how her and Vanessa are still together. She was sure that Vanessa would have gotten bored of her by now, was almost certain that she would have ended things long ago. She’s not sure why she hasn’t yet — it’s not as if Charity’s really offering anything to the relationship.

Vanessa said it herself — emotional intelligence of an amoeba. Charity doesn’t think she’s ever heard a more accurate description of herself, has never had anyone hit the nail on the head quite so accurately.

It’s pathetic, really, the way she can barely even bring herself to show Vanessa she cares. It’s affection, really, that trips her up; she’s never had any problem with the shallow side of things — the kissing, the sex, the meaningless shows of affection — but the emotional side…

Well, the emotional side leaves a lot to be desired.

Vanessa’s so free with her affection — a cheek kiss here, a hand hold there — that it takes a long time to even get used to, never mind even consider the notion of being that affectionate herself. It’s strange, being with someone who’s so unscarred, so unmarred, that she can just dole love and affection out like it’s no big deal.

Charity finds that she quite likes it — the constant validation. It’s nice, knowing that Vanessa will always be there to hold her, to love her, to look after her. She only wishes that she could show it back.

She tries, a few times. They’ll be lazing together on the couch, or walking down the high street, or sitting watching Moses and Johnny play football, and her hand will start twitching. She tries every time to make the move, tries so hard — to cover Vanessa’s hand with her own, to intertwine their fingers — but it never amounts to anything. She always chickens out at the last moment.

And the thing is, it hurts, not being able to show that affection back, because for the first time in her life, she _wants_ to. Wants to be able to get her message across, wants Vanessa to know she cares, because she does. Vanessa’s the first person she’s cared about in a long time, the only person who’s just genuinely pure, and it makes her feel nauseous to think that someone as truly good as Vanessa is spending her time waiting around on someone like Charity, who can’t even bring herself to hold her hand.

And Vanessa is … well, Vanessa’s great. She’s the calm in the middle of the storm with everything that’s happening with Noah and Joe bloody Tate; the one thing that can keep her grounded. An anchor of sorts. She’s always there, always willing to lend a shoulder to cry on or arms to lie in or even just a bed to share.

For the first time in a long time, Charity feels guilty. Guilty that she can’t give Vanessa what she wants. What she _deserves._

The night it happens is just like any other night; they’re curled up in the backroom, wrapped under a blanket on the sofa, eyes glued to the telly. Everyone’s out — Moses with Ross, Johnny with Tracy, Noah with Liv and Aaron and Chas with Paddy. There’s a new episode of _The Good Place_ out and Charity’s been putting off catching up on it for weeks now, so they settled down earlier in the night to catch up on all they missed.

(Charity told her time and time again that Vanessa didn’t have to wait for her, that she could keep watching and they’d just continue together when Charity finally caught up, but Vanessa seemed insistent on both of them watching it all together, so eventually it came to the point where she couldn’t put it off any longer).

Charity’s sprawled across the sofa — head resting on Vanessa’s lap, Vanessa’s hands idly playing with her hair — trying to focus on the telly when her phone chimes. She lets out a long-suffering sigh, as if she’s been asked to hike Everest carrying both Moses and Johnny on her back, not lean over and grab her phone from the table. She pouts up at Vanessa, eyes flickering between the phone and her girlfriend to make her request clear.

“Pleaaase,” she whines, giving Vanessa her best puppy dog look.

Vanessa rolls her eyes, but leans forward and picks it up anyway. “You are the laziest person I have ever met.”

“Don’t lie,” Charity says. “You love it.”

Vanessa narrows her eyes at her. “Love what?”

“Being my errand girl.” The smug look on her face is soon replaced with a pained one as Vanessa pinches her in the side. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For being annoying,” Vanessa says, but she’s got that soft look on her face, the one that Charity loves most. Charity reckons she could live in these moments forever.

“Who is it, then?” she asks, nodding towards the phone.

“Er, let’s see…” She unlocks the phone, and Charity doesn’t miss the look of pride that flashes over Vanessa’s face when she sees that her lockscreen is the two of them. “Aaron.”

“What’s he saying?”

“‘Liv said Noah was talking about seeing Joe Tate,’” she reads aloud, voice trailing off as she gets to the end. “‘What’s all that about?’ Charity…”

All of a sudden, the mood changes. Charity snaps up, the blanket falling off their laps in the process. The happy, banterous air that surrounded them is gone, replaced by a much more serious one. Charity leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees and burying her face in her hands.

“I told him to stay away from him,” she says. Vanessa can barely make it out, muffled by her hands, but her heart breaks at how sad Charity sounds, how utterly broken she is.

“Charity, I’m sure it’s not… he could have been talking about seeing him before?” she offers, resting a comforting hand on Charity’s thigh. “It might not be as bad as it sounds.”

Charity snorts. She removes her head from her hands, instead moving her palm to her eye, rubbing at it with such force that it’s almost as if she’s willing any tears that dare try and escape to stay inside. “Of course it’s as bad as it sounds, Ness.”

“Charity, you don’t —“

“ _Of course_ I know that!” she snaps. “I’m not thick, Vanessa.”

“I never said you were thick.” She sighs. “I’m trying to make you feel better. Tell me what I can do to help, and I’ll do it.”

Charity lets out a frustrated groan, hands balling into fists. It’s not Vanessa — it’s _not._ It’s herself, more than anything. She’s mad at herself for being like this, for not being able to accept help, care, affection. Here Vanessa is, willing to drop everything to make her feel better, and she can’t do anything but shun her.

“Unless you can go back twenty-odd years in time and stop Chris from knocking Joe’s mum up, or stop me from marrying that psycho, then there’s nothing you can do.”

Vanessa sighs, deflated. “Maybe I should go, then. Give you some time on your own.”

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Charity snaps.

Vanessa looks taken aback at that, like she wasn’t really expecting Charity to agree. She stands up nonetheless, removing her hand from Charity’s thigh. “Unbelievable,” she says under her breath as she grabs her jacket from the coffee table. “I’ll see you, Charity.”

She leaves, slamming the door behind her. She’s been gone for about two seconds when Charity realises what an absolute cock-up she’s made, and as soon as she does, she’s pulling her shoes on and running after her.

Vanessa’s halfway down the road when she finally gets outside, walking just that bit faster than normal. “Vanessa!” she calls out, voice far more desperate than she’d like to admit. “Vanessa, wait up!”

“Go home, Charity,” Vanessa shouts over her shoulder, not looking back.

“Vanessa, come on!” When Vanessa shows no sign of slowing down, Charity rolls her eyes and picks up her pace. She jogs down the street until she catches up with Vanessa, who starts speedwalking away as fast as she can. “Vanessa, don’t be like this, please.”

“I’m really not in the mood, Charity.”

She reaches forward, grasping at Vanessa’s hand just for any contact, but Vanessa attempts to wriggle out of her grip. “Charity, let go,” she says, voice sharp.

“Not until you stop and talk to me!”

“And why should I?” Vanessa says, still struggling to regain control of her own hand.

“Because I love you!” she shouts, and it just slips out.

That stops her. She stops moving automatically, frozen to her spot. Charity realises what she said as soon as it’s out, face screwing up in panic. Fuck.

“You… you what?” Vanessa asks. This time, when she goes to release her hand, Charity lets her without question. She turns around slowly, eyes wide, as if she’s afraid that any sudden movements will spook Charity.

“Please don’t make me say it again,” Charity hears herself say, but it comes out as a sort of harsh whisper, still in disbelief that those words had come out of her mouth — and first, on top of it all.

“Charity…” Vanessa says, voice warning.

Charity squeezes her eyes shut and tries to brace herself. She doesn’t speak for a few seconds, trying to go over it all in her head, but she can almost feel Vanessa growing restless beside her, so she figures she better act fast before she tries to leave again.

She reaches out and snatches Vanessa’s hand, clasping it with her own. Her grip’s unfamiliar, a bit too tight, but she smiles a little at herself anyway. It feels like bravery — like the first step.

“I love you,” she says. Her voice shakes but the words come out clear enough and she thinks that must be all that matters, because she can see Vanessa’s resolve crumbling, can see her softening. “And - and I’m sorry, for being a dick. I mean, you would’ve thought you’d be used to it by now, going out with me this long, but… but it’s not an excuse, yeah? I’m sorry. I know you were only trying to help, but I just — I don’t know how to do it. Y’know, feelings, and all that.”

“Charity,” Vanessa says, her voice gentle again, but Charity doesn’t give her a chance to continue, too scared that what follows next is going to be a rejection.

“I know I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, and I’m sorry, yeah? It’s just … it’s all new to me, this. Caring — being cared for. It’s different. Weird. I know I don’t handle things the best, but - but I’m _trying,_ okay?”

“Charity,” Vanessa says again, that stupid smile on her face, but Charity can’t stop herself from keeping going.

“And - and if you don’t feel the same then that’s fine, yeah, I get it. Doesn’t have to mean anything! We can keep going, and we can just forget I said anything, or we can —”

“ _Charity,_ ” Vanessa cuts in. Third time’s a charm, it would seem, because Charity stops talking and instead just stares back at Vanessa, eyes wide and panicked.

“Yeah?”

“If you would shut up for one minute and let me get a word in edgeways, you’d hear this: I love you, too.”

Relief floods Charity’s face, along with shock. She can’t believe it — that someone as wonderful as Vanessa would even waste her time with her, never mind love her.

“Really?” she breathes out. Vanessa squeezes Charity’s hand in hers before dropping it to wrap her arms around her neck. Charity’s hands automatically come to settle on her waist, instinct more than anything.

“Yes, you daft mare. ‘Course I do.” She smiles, so wide and beautiful and just — happy, that Charity can hardly believe her luck. “Didn’t think you were getting rid of me that easy, did you?”

She lets out a sigh of relief, before replacing the soppy look on her face with one of fake nonchalance. “Well,” she drawls, voice playful. “A girl can hope, can’t she?”

“C’mere,” Vanessa says after she lets out a breathy laugh. She moves her hand to Charity’s cheek, swiping her thumb over her cheekbone a few times before she draws her in for a kiss, soft and slow and the closest thing to perfect Charity’s ever felt in her life.

It’s almost like she can feel Vanessa picking up all of the broken pieces of her and piecing her back together one by one, like some sort of sad jigsaw. She only hopes she won’t get bored halfway through and give up.

After they pull apart, they walk back to the pub hand-in-hand, and Charity thanks whatever deity blessed her with her umpteenth chance with Vanessa for what must be the millionth time.

**Author's Note:**

> speak to me on tumblr! noahdingles.tumblr.com


End file.
